


Viktor Nikifuckoff

by RamblingAtThreeAM



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Finally, Future AU, M/M, Otabek wins bronze, Swearing, Yuri wins silver, Yuuri wins gold, its cute though, mentions of sex but it's really vague, viktor with his fucking ring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-29
Updated: 2017-07-29
Packaged: 2018-12-08 13:28:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11647518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RamblingAtThreeAM/pseuds/RamblingAtThreeAM
Summary: Otabek and Yuri are half naked after a night of celebration and Viktor (who is unaware that Otayuri is a thing) wakes them up. All of them are scarred for life. Viktor has amazing blackmail material.





	Viktor Nikifuckoff

**Author's Note:**

> This is set in the future so Yuri of age. Also, I'm sorry the title is a pun.

Yuri is very rudely awoken by the sound of his hotel door being flung open and a far too bright, extremely annoying, incredibly fucking loud "Yuuurrriiiiioooooo" that could only have originated from one shitty person.  
Viktor fucking Nikiforov, living legend, five time world champion and biggest dickhead known to man.  
"Old man, get the fuck out!", Yuri yells, before violently hissing and scrabbling under his covers as the shitting asshole flounces into the room and yanks the large balcony curtains open without so much as a backwards glance at his Russian rink mate.  
There is sunlight everywhere, even fighting its way through the ridiculously expensive silk bedcovers Yuri has taken refuge in. He squirms a little deeper into his makeshift burrow. Then he stops, panic rising in his chest as fast as the blush that is surely riding in his painfully pale cheeks.  
Shit.  
Shitshitshitfuckshit.  
Yuri has brushed against a leg. Specifically Otabek, his boyfriend's leg. His boyfriend that no one knows about, and that Viktor is about to turn around and see.  
Shit.  
He could try and act like Otabek had slept over, if it weren't for the fact that Yuri's neck and bare chest are littered in quite prominent hickeys and Beka is in nothing but underwear. Yuri looks down at his pyjama bottoms and counts himself lucky that he bothered to put on one more layer of clothing than his lover had last night.  
Viktor is babbling away at this point, some mindless shit about his fucking Katsudon, who had managed to score just slightly higher than Yuri, winning gold for the first time in his figure skating career. As much as Yuri had tried to scowl and claim his hatred of all things Japanese, the look on the pigs face when he had clasped that fucking metal had melted Yuri's heart. Not that he would ever admit that to anyone but Beka.  
Ever.  
Besides, Yuri thinks, smirking, Beka and he had celebrated their silver and bronze last night regardless.  
The smirk quickly drops as Yuri hears Otabek groan slightly. He shoots out from under the covers, squinting in the sunlight but caring more about hiding the evidence which, to be frank, is so glaringly obvious that even a dumbass like Victor could figure it out.  
Yuri has never moved faster in his life as he flings the covers over the entirety of Otabek's sleeping form and leans lightly against them in a would be casual way, praying to every god he can think of that Beka does. not. wake. up.  
At the sudden flurry of movement behind him Viktor halts his babbling and gracefully turns around from where he had been admiring the glint of his engagement ring in the sunlight.  
"Yurio, are you oka-".  
"I'm fine, now get the fuck out", Yuri all but growls. Then, as an afterthought, "and that's not my fucking name, dickhead".  
Viktor courteously chooses to ignore the blonde headed boy, instead opting to take a few small, cautious steps towards the bed, steely blue eyes squinting in confusion as he cocks his head to the side, causing a few silver strands of perfectly fixed hair to fall across his forehead.  
Yuri is sweating profusely.  
"Yurio", that needling voice causes each and every one of his hairs to stand on edge in anticipation of what was to come, "what's under the blanket?".  
Shit.  
Yuri feels his heart drop to his stomach, face reddening further, as well as his exposed chest.  
"N-nothing!", what is supposed to be a defensive warning tone comes out as an embarrassed squeak.  
Viktor stays where he is, cautiously scrutinising the younger boys appearance. Then his eyes widen slightly and he lifts a perfectly arched eyebrow as he zeros in on the marks on Yuri's chest.  
"Or is it a someone under the blankets, hmn?", A smirk pulls at the corner of Viktor's lips.  
"No!", yells Yuri, a rather impressive shade of magenta, "now get the fuck out before I kick your ass, old man".  
"My, my Yurio", the asshole smirks, "rather defensive today, aren't we".  
Yuri can only glare at Viktor, who takes another few tentative steps forward. In response, Yuri presses himself tighter against Otabek.  
"Get. Out. Now.", he snarls.  
Sunddenly, the mound of blankets starts to lift slowly, a tried, sleepy groan emanating from beneath them.  
"Yura, babe?", Otabek's deep, gravelly morning voice sounds throughout the room that has been shocked into silence as he pulls the covers down to his mid torso and sits up, slowly rubbing his eyes and coming to terms with his surroundings. "Why is it so bright? I usually have to force you to open the cur- Mr. Nikiforov!".  
The way Otabek's voice flips from sleepy and caring to alert and panicked in a matter of seconds would be funny to Yuri, in literally any situation but this one.  
Viktor simply smiled pleasantly, "Oh, call me Viktor", he dismisses with a wave, "good morning Otabek, I simply came to ensure Yurio woke up in time for his flight this morning and I'll admit, I was slightly worried, you two left the banquet early last night, I thought one of you was sick, but now I see you left early for an entirely different reason", he gazes obviously at the small scratches littering Otabek's exposed chest and shoulders.  
Yuri is suddenly very thankful that Viktor can't see his back.  
He stares defiantly up into the older mans mirthful eyes and Otabek flushes, scratches the back of his neck and ducks his head.  
"Fuck off, old man, like you and the piggy didn't do the same", he spits out.  
Viktor allows a smile and winks at them. "At least Yuuri and I don't have to worry about the others being suspicious when they see the marks". At this Yuri's eyes widen in panic because fuck, he didn't think about that.  
Viktor just laughs at the expression on the blondes face, before pulling out a few items from his pocket and throwing them on the mattress beside the boys. On closer inspection Yuri recognises them as concealer, foundation and a beauty blender.  
"If you can, only use the concealer, but those marks", he lets out a long, low whistle, "you might need the foundation to cover them. And don't worry, I won't tell".  
"Thanks", Yuri mumbles grudgingly, somewhat subdued cheeks flaring into vibrant colour again.  
"No problem, Yurio!", Viktor hurries out of the room, followed by Yuri's angry shout:  
"That's not my name, asshole!".

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed it! Reviews and kudos are greatly appreciated!  
> Scream at/with me on tumblr! https://www.tumblr.com/blog/deadtoearth


End file.
